Memories Poem by GURDEV CHAUHAN

To get rid of your thought
I said to myself,
'Everything is okay.'
There are flowers,
the waiting wife,
taste of a sip of tea
on the tongue.
Everything is okay
so much, there is no room
for anything else

Then, I slowly walked to the table,
turned pages of the book,
felt its cover,
the table glass had soiled,
cleaned it,
this was enough
to turn up the page
of your memory

The ancient seeds
had sprouted
the roots of future